Does panic ever wake you up in the middle of the night?
At 3am on Tuesday morning I was roused from my slumber by all the things I need to do at work before I go on holidays.
Yep, my subconscious decided to tap my brain on the shoulder in the middle of the night and say “let’s get into this … right now!”
The thing that’s really messing with me is there’s a visitor economy forum taking place while I’m away. It was initially scheduled for a month prior, but moved after I’d booked my break.
Last year I created a whole information hub on the corporate website for the forum, but I won’t be there this time around. Instead I’ve been working with my boss on a comms plan to streamline responsibilities for my replacement, but a lot of pieces are still missing from the puzzle.
And time is running out.
I need to brief videographers and photographers. I need to draft a media release. I need to rustle up an industry news article to promote the forum in this week’s newsletter … my chest is getting tight just writing those words.
I lost most of last week to illness. I’ll lose a chunk today to visiting my GP, who tends to run waaaay over on his appointments because he’s so thorough. My last two appointments both went for more than an hour.
My apartment is also beginning to resemble an exhibit by Australian artist Rone, as dust and cobwebs encroach on every room. My vacuum really needs to make an appearance before I clock off.
Meanwhile DD is battling similar time constraints. He sent me a message last night saying: “I’ve just cleaned the outdoor kitchen and cleaned out the fridge. Going away is quite arduous.”
I hear you, DD.
He’s also about to hop on a plane to Perth this afternoon for a quick meeting. I don’t envy him that.
I think we both need an enforced break from going at 100 miles an hour week in, week out.
We’re on the home straight …
Song of the day: Matchbox 20 “3am”
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